


Sleepless

by Pixelf



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Game)
Genre: Gift Fic, I Don't Even Know, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, OTP Feels, Trans Male Character, Trans!Defalt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelf/pseuds/Pixelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for DarkestHeir for making me cry emotionally in a cupboard for six hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkestHeir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkestHeir/gifts).



> I'm still going with the Deadmau5 titles. Still going strong guys. Annoyed yet? 
> 
> Also, should I make this into a series? 
> 
> Dark, we could totally collab on it. You spew your ideas at me, the ones where you can only see really short snippets, and I'll try and broaden it out? Or the other way around?

Why I ever agreed to join up this merry band of misfits in the first place, I’ll never know.   
I’m alone in the safe house. Clara had to go to home. T-Bone fucked off, good fucking riddance. Aiden could have fallen off the earth for all I know. None of them ever tell me anything and I’m glad because I honestly don’t fucking care. If it weren’t for the fact that Aiden is protecting my ass from the Fixers, and sort of being my fuck buddy, I’d be long gone.

  
I’m getting sick of drinking alone though. I mean, it probably wasn’t the best of my ideas, drinking when I’m supposed to be alert and aware and shit like that. But really it’s so fucking boring and I had brain cells that needed to die anyway. I cannot stand being cooped up in one place for too long.   
There’s nothing to do down here. I could hack shit like I’m supposed to but the idea alone makes me shudder. For once a computer repulses me. I just want to get so fucking hammered that I wake up in a river or someplace like that. I have a friend who did that once. He must’ve thought that he was a duck.  
A door opens off in the distance and I wonder, briefly, if I should hide the bottle. I decide fuck it and I take another swig just as the Fox himself comes striding in.   
“Morning, general,” I give a mock salute and he glares at me, openly fucking glares. He’s such a prick.   
“Have you just been sitting in here drinking?” he says.   
“I stood up once or twice.”

  
He makes a noise of disgust and he falls into one of the chairs. Poor bastard’s been running around all night, chasing ghosts. He should really let Lena’s death go. Letting that kind of rage eat away at you is only self destructive and it gets you nowhere. I alone know that better than anyone.   
“Would you now?”   
“What?”   
“You know it better than anyone?”   
So I spoke my thoughts out loud again? Good to know. He’s still glaring at me and, honestly, I’m offended. I haven’t done a thing, yet.   
“Yeah I know it better. I know a lot of things, Pearce. You and your fucking dogs don’t know shit.”   
I don’t know why I’m saying this because I know, there’s a voice in the back of my head that confirms this, that this is only going to get my ass kicked. And he’s already done that once. I don’t fancy my face meeting his fist again. Or maybe and there’s a slim chance of it, that this will get me laid again. But I really doubt I can get that lucky twice.   
He breathes in deep then lets it out and I can practically _feel_ him clenching his knuckles. Will he actually hit me? How many of his buttons do I have to press in order to get him to do that? I think I’ve just set myself a challenge. A pretty stupid one but a challenge nonetheless.   
“How do you know?” he asks and I’m surprised that he’s even playing along with this. If I were him I’d toss a chair at me or something. I deserve it.   
“It’s none of your fucking business, Vigilante,” I say and I get up.  
His shoulders go rigid like he’s gearing up for a fight. I almost smirk, almost; it’s kind of hard to pull an expression when you’re trying to drink at the same time. I bought several bottles and I reach into the bag I brought them in with and I pull another one out and toss it to Aiden without warning. The fucking show-off manages to catch it which is fucking boring.

  
He gives me a look and I don’t know what it means but I sit next to him regardless and take a long gulp of my own. I know he’s watching me and I know that the guy still thinks about me. Why wouldn’t he? He’s banging the motherfucking Defalt; I’m pretty hard to forget about. I’m that ridiculously awesome.   
He looks away sharply when he catches my eye.   
“Your rainbow is showing, Pearce.”   
He pretends not to hear me but I see the small tinge of colour on his cheeks. And I keep looking because, dear God, Aiden is _fine_ and no-one else seems to comment on this. And it’s weird for me because generally I don’t get attached to my casual fucks for good reasons. When they find out the truth about me they get freaked out, tell me I’m a fake dude, that I’m sick, perverted. I can only thank God that all that happened before I became Defalt. JB Markowicz may have his reputation ruined but Defalt gets to keep his.   
“Could you stop staring at me?” he snaps.   
“I was fucking thinking, Fox. Now you made me lose track,” I retort and the heated glare he sends me could melt an ice block.   
“Look, whatever, just go home or something,” he waves me off like I’m a fly buzzing around his face.   
“Do I bother you that much?” I ask.   
“Yeah, if you really want to know,” he says.   
“Is it because I mentioned the rainbow?”   
“No,” he says but his eyes dart downwards and he kind of mumbled a little.   
“We’ve already fucked Pierce. I don’t get why you’re back in the closet.”   
He shoots me a look. “Because I don’t normally do one night stands.”   
I snort. “I’m your first? That’s cute.”   
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  
The silence that follows that is loud enough for both of us to hear a mouse scurrying across the floorboards. I keep my eyes to the ground because I don’t know where else to look. But I can feel him staring at me. I can feel him judging me behind those fucking annoying eyes that make me giddy and stupid and I fucking hate them.   
“If you wanted to break up,” I spit, “that’s all you had to say.”

  
The bottle’s pressed against my lips but he pulls it away from my grip and sets it gently on the table, then spins my chair around so we face each other directly. It’s so gay and I want to say so but he doesn’t let me say a thing with his stupid fucking lips pressing against mine. I don’t know how he can keep himself so warm outside when it’s freezing and raining but he does and I go limp in them because you don’t have much strength to do anything else when he kisses you. He’s wickedly good at it and I hate him for it. It’s the softest, most intense kiss I’ve ever gotten from anybody and my brain overheats trying to decide whether I like it or not.   
When we pull apart there’s the awkward moment of silence as neither of us have anything clever to say. Aiden’s hands hover over me like he doesn’t know what to do with them or whether he’s allowed to touch me or not. I don’t give him an answer.

  
“I don’t want to break up. I just don’t want to pretend that there’s nothing going on between us,” he says.   
I shift in my seat. “You want to play the happy couple with me?”  
“Is that so hard to believe?”   
“You’ve seen me-“ I don’t want to continue so I shut my mouth. I’ve kept this part of myself secret for years. No-one in the world knows that the music god Defalt is trans, that he was born with the wrong parts and is too fucking scared to get the surgery or the treatments. I hate hospitals. I avoid them whenever I can. They’re a place of fucking misery and I can’t understand how people work there willingly. I’ve been happy enough as I am. I know what I am. I know who I am. But most people don’t. A lot of people can be assholes. I know I’m an asshole but I’m an asshole who doesn’t discriminate, because I hate everyone and everything.   
Or maybe I don’t. Because I don’t hate Pierce. Aiden. As much as I want to, I just don’t.   
“And?” Aiden says with a raised eyebrow and I really want to punch him now. Or hug him. Probably both. I’m squirming with all these thoughts and feelings and I really just want to continue getting smashed but I don’t think Aiden will let me.

  
“I care a lot about you, Jay. You’re the most irritating man I’ve ever met but you’re also the most interesting. I’m willing to give it a shot. Are you?”   
And I really don’t know whether I want to cry or strangle him. I do neither. I smirk at him and his stupid stubbly face doesn’t even have time to react before I attack it with lips and tongue and teeth.

  
I wake up some hours later, my head throbbing raw with pain and my throat dry as sand but I’m not alone. I won’t be any more.


End file.
